Escaping the Past

  Tammy Falkner * Escaping the past * 21

  Escaping the

  Past

  by

  Tammy Falkner

  Night Shift Publishing

  Copyright © 2012 by Tammy Falkner

  Escaping the Past

  Second Edition, Paperback – published 2007

  Night Shift Publishing

  Cover design by Kim Killion, Hotdamndesigns.com

  ISBN-13: 978-0615734880

  ISBN-10: 061573488X

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Prologue

  Mary Lou Smith woke to the sound of humming. It was sweet, soulful humming; the kind that makes you wish you could carry a tune. Lou opened her eyes and there sat a heavy, dark skinned woman with a smile as big as all outdoors.

  Not completely sure where she was, Lou lurched upright, desperately searching the room.

  “Whatcha lookin’ for child?” the woman quietly asked.

  She laid back quickly, her hand pressed to her forehead, the pain still with her from the previous night.

  “My…” Her tongue came out to wet her parched lips, but her mouth felt like it was lined with cotton.

  “If you are looking for that sweet child, she’s in the kitchen with my husband, Jebediah. He’s the one who found you in the road last night. Him and John.” The woman clucked as she leaned over the bed to survey the damage to Lou’s head. “I’m Sadie. Jeb is my husband and we take care of this place for the owner. Her name is Margaret Wester. You’ll be meeting her later. How does your head feel?”

  “Hurts,” she mumbled around the cotton filling her mouth. Sadie placed an arm beneath her shoulders, raised her to a reclined sitting position, and lifted a glass of water to her lips.

  “Where ‘bouts you from, child? Do you have a name? How old are you?” Sadie hit her with all the questions at once.

  She wasn’t from anywhere. Not anymore. Tears stung the backs of her eyelids as she said, “ My name is M…Lou! My name is Lou. It’s short for Louise. Louise Smith. I am almost nineteen years old, ma’am. The baby’s name is Sarah. She’s two months old.” Unable to hold back the tears, they rolled like two swollen streams down her face. She sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. “I’ll be out of your way today if you tell me where I am, ma’am.”

  “You’re not going anywhere with that gash on your forehead. You and the baby will be just fine and safe right here. We’ll figure out what to do with you when you’re better.” Her voice lowered to just above a whisper. “You had a black bag with you. We put it away for you. When you need it, you just let us know.”

  The man she called Jebediah walked through the door of the bedroom. He was a tall, skinny man with a warm look in his eyes. Beneath one arm, he held a bassinet. On the other arm lay a cooing Sarah.

  “I sent John into town to get diapers and formula for the little one. She seems to go through both pretty quick,” he mumbled as he bent and placed Sarah in Lou’s arms. Sarah reached up with a clumsy fist and hit Lou in the cheek. She grabbed that tiny little fist and placed a quick kiss to it. They would be all right. Wouldn’t they?

  “That, she does, sir. Thank you. And thank you for last night.” Lou’s smile was genuine despite the worry that plagued her. “I am sorry for all the trouble I must have caused you.”

  “Don’t you worry your pretty little head none. I have been through worse, although it has been many a year since then. So far, ain’t nothing broke that can’t be fixed.” He winked at her. “One broken window on my truck.” He shrugged and then slipped an arm around Sadie’s thick waist. “The last time I got shot at, it was Sadie’s father who held the gun.” He scratched his forehead. “Man always was a poor shot.” Sadie elbowed him playfully in the side.

  The heavy tread of boots stomping down the hallway met their ears and then a young man with flaming red hair and bright green eyes appeared in the doorway. “Jeb, you ain’t gonna believe how expensive it is to have a baby. The lady at the store told me I needed all this stuff even though I told her we only one.” He held up a single finger for emphasis. “One.” With a disgusted sigh, he dropped six bags filled with clothes, diapers, toys, formula and other necessities on the edge of the bed.

  “Good Lord, boy, I’ll never send you out with another hundred dollar bill again. I should have known you would bust it wide open.” Jeb took his hat off his head and playfully swatted the young man with it. Sadie reached into the bags and grabbed bottles, formula, and other supplies before waddling toward the kitchen.

  The man’s red hair stood in loose curls atop his head. Six feet of skinny boy walked to the side of the bed with an awkwardness that bespoke of his youth. He extended a hand. “My name is John, ma’am. Who might you be?”

  “My name is Lou and this is Sarah,” she said, looking down into the baby’s brown eyes. “Thank you for last night.”

  Sadie entered the room, shaking a bottle of formula and carrying a burp cloth in the other. She reached over and gently took the baby from Lou, placed her in John’s arms, and put a bottle in his hand. She threw the burp cloth over his shoulder. Swatting him on the rear, she said, “Why don’t you make yourself useful while Lou and I get cleaned up?”

  Lou couldn’t hold back a grin the look of shock on his face. Jeb clapped him on the shoulder and said, “Come on, boy, I’ll give you some moral support.”

  Sadie closed the door. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Lou. “I don’t particularly care where you came from as long as you have no secrets that will hurt those I love. Is there anything I should know?”

  She couldn’t hide from the searching, brown eyes. The sobs started low down in her belly. Sadie sat beside her on the bed and listened to her story, never once scowling or showing emotion. She gently patted her on the back and dried her tears when they were spent.

  “Let’s get you cleaned up.” Lou had just bared her soul to Sadie and she barely blinked an eye? Let’s get you cleaned up? No threats to toss her and her daughter into the street? No worries about the people who’d shot out her husband’s windows the night before after he’d stopped to pick Lou up on the side of the road? Could anyone truly be this kind?

  As Sadie helped Lou to the shower, they heard a disgusted yell from the kitchen. “Well, damn! She puked on me!” Jeb’s low laughter could be heard as well. Lou felt like the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders. She didn’t, and wouldn’t, allow herself to think about her mother or the past. Not yet. Not today.

  Chapter One

  2010

  Lou waited for Sarah to get off the bus at the end of the long drive, sweat rolling from her brow. At seven years of age, she was still too young to walk the long, gravel drive to the main house alone. Some days Sadie was there to greet her because Lou was busy in the house. Sometimes, John would come to meet her. Sarah enjoyed these days most of all, because she got a laughing pony ride back to the big house. Today, Lou was there waiting.

  “Hi, Mommy!”

  Lou said, “Hi, Baby. How was your day?”

  Youthful exuberance met her as Sarah bubbled over with her tales of school. “Do you know Kerry’s mom says butterflies are not the most beautiful creatures in the world? She says there are a lot of things more beautiful than butterflies. I decided
today I want to be a singer when I grow up. Gina’s mom is a singer and she gets to travel to the ocean and back…”

  Sarah could never be accused of being quiet. Once she learned to talk, she had never stopped.

  Lou used the long walk back to the main house to think about how lucky and how thankful she was for her good fortune. She was proud to have been offered a job and a home by Margaret Wester, the owner of the grand old home and breeding stable where they now resided as a part of the family. Mrs. Wester had no responsibility toward Lou and Sarah, despite the fact two of her employees had brought them home like lost kittens on that fateful night seven years before. Never in her wildest dreams could she have imagined Mrs. Wester would choose to hire her as a personal assistant, educate her at the local college and prepare her for life in the way she had.

  Western Skies Breeding and Horse Stables had never been so prosperous. The barns were filled with quality quarter horses—broodmares and stallions of the greatest beauty and temperament. Horse owners drove for days to deliver a mare to the stable for breeding. The lush pastures were well tended and horses were thriving because of it. The stable hands were the best of the best, and they knew quality horseflesh when they saw it.

  Lou walked down the long, gravel drive to the house, taking in the scenery as she enjoyed the shade thrown by the huge magnolia trees that hugged the lane. The scent of honeysuckle hung in the summer air. She inhaled deeply, smiling as she thought of her good fortune.

  The main house was a beauty in and of itself. In true antebellum style, multiple Greek columns supported porches that graced all four exterior walls on both the lower and upper levels. A hipped roof sloped from a single point down on all four sides to the eaves of the home. Four dormers hinted of a large attic that stretched the length of the house. Each of the thirteen bedrooms had access doors leading to the porticos on each level. Wrought-iron railings with ornate details garnished each floor. A large ballroom remained unused since the early 1900s. Central entryways at the front and the back of the home were a welcome site after the long walk from the bus stop.

  Sarah ran through the back door, thunked her book bag on the kitchen table, and skipped toward the bedroom of Margaret Wester. Mrs. Wester sat supported by a chaise lounge and had a book propped in her hand. Sadie stood by the bed, fluffing pillows before turning to straighten the room. Sarah crawled into Mrs. Wester’s chair and deposited a loud kiss on her cheek. The old woman’s eyes opened slowly.

  “Whatcha doing?” Sarah asked.

  “I was checking my eyes for cracks,” Mrs. Wester said feebly.

  “Did you find any?” Sarah asked, touching her eyelids in wonder.

  “Nope. But I’ll be sure to look again in a few minutes. How was your day?”

  “My day was great. You’re not going to believe what happened…” Sadie and Lou listened as Sarah told Mrs. Wester about the butterflies and the happenings at school. Pretty soon, Mrs. Wester was visibly fading, so both the adults worked to shoo Sarah from the room. Lou kissed her employer on the top of the head before they walked out the door. Mrs. Wester was already asleep.

  Lou stopped to gaze back at her mentor and friend. Her heart broke as she looked at the once strong body, now weak. Mrs. Wester couldn’t withstand the rigors of social interaction for more than a few minutes and could only get about thirty minutes of clarity before sleep would again reclaim her. She no longer accepted callers, but she insisted Sarah visit at least once a day.

  Lou’s eyes met Sadie’s. “I think it’s time to call Brody,” Sadie said.

  Brody was Mrs. Wester’s son. In all her years at the farm, he had never once come home to visit, but he had sent Christmas and birthday gifts with nice notes like clockwork for Mrs. Wester, Jeb, Sadie, and

  John. He never missed a birthday. Every year Lou opened the UPS boxes full of gaily wrapped packages at Christmas and placed them beneath the tree.

  “Do you know how to reach him, Sadie? I agree and think we need to call him soon,” Lou said as they walked into the library. Mrs. Wester had not stepped foot in the library in years but her desk remained. Lou used it to care for the finances of the farm.

  Sadie turned a small, black Rolodex until she reached the card she wanted. She plucked it from the card holder and held it out to Lou. Lou sat down behind the desk and picked up the phone. Holding the card in one hand, she dialed with the other.

  “County Hospital,” the distracted voice said.

  “May I speak with Mr. Brody Wester, please?” Lou asked patiently.

  “You mean Dr. Broden Wester?”

  “Um, yes. My name is Lou Smith. I work for his mother.”

  “Oh. He is in surgery right now. May I take a message?”

  “Yes. Could you please tell him his mother is ill and she needs him?”

  The voice paused. “I’ll do that,” she said.

  “Thanks.” Lou hung up the phone.

  A few hours after her phone call, Lou read Sarah a story and tucked her into bed in the room adjoining her own. After making sure the child was settled for the night, she decided to go out to the barn and check on a new foal that had not looked very sturdy earlier in the day. She quietly closed the bedroom door.

  The air outside was so thick you had to chew it before you could walk through it. Her long, brown hair stuck to her face like seaweed wraps around your legs at the beach, and her clothes were soaked before she ever reached the barn. She peered over the stall door, happy to see that the new baby was on her feet and looked much stronger than she had earlier in the day.

  “She’s a beaut, ain’t she, Lou?” John said as he stepped beside her and peered over the stall door. He took off his hat and wiped his forehead with his forearm.

  “She looks better than she did this afternoon.”

  “I know. I was worried there for a while.” John, although he was Margaret Wester’s nephew, was in charge of the stables and the foals, and it was his job to oversee the birth of the new arrivals. With some, like this one in particular, Lou sat up with him all night to wait for the new baby. This one came pretty quickly. As they waited patiently, they had discussed their worries about the old matriarch, Mrs. Wester, and they shared the same concerns.

  “It’s hotter than seven hells out here, Lou. What do you say we get cooled off?” John asked, a mischievous look twinkling in his green eyes. “I thought we might take a dip in the pond behind the house. What do you think?”

  Lou thought about it for no more than a second, plucked the sweaty shirt from her skin one more time, and nodded her head. “Race you!” she called out as she streaked by him, heading for the huge farm pond. An excellent runner, she outdistanced him by three car lengths. She reached the dock long before he did. She turned her back to John and kicked off her worn jean shorts and sandals.

  Before John could get his shirt off, she was slicing through the water wearing only a lacy, matching bra and panty set. John performed a perfect cannon-ball wearing only his boxers. He disappeared into the water. She waited for him to resurface. After a minute, she began to worry. Could he have hit his head? Where was he? He tugged her ankle and pulled her under. Her head went under water, and she came up sputtering.

  She smacked the surface of the water before she struck out after him, grabbing his head and pushing him below the surface of the water. Their water play continued for about a half-hour before they both tired. They swam back to the dock, and he climbed the ladder first. He turned his back and started to pull his jeans on while she climbed out herself. She bent to pick up the faded jean shorts.

  “Uh-hum!” The clearing of a throat grabbed their attention.

  Lou gasped and crossed her arms over her wet t-shirt. She looked into the distance and could see the taillights of a cab as it pulled out of the gates. It had left the tall man who stood before them, one eyebrow cocked slightly and a bemused look upon his face.

  “Brody!” John exclaimed as he walked forward to greet the newcomer.

  ****

  The
woman obviously knew no shame. She stood there, nearly naked, the moonlight shining on all of her assets. The wet cloth of her shirt and panties was nearly translucent and did little to hide the shadows and curves beneath. Her long legs and graceful, bare feet were exposed for his view. Long, dark waves of wet hair clung to her shoulders.

  When she realized someone had interrupted their tryst, she had tried to hide herself behind her shirt but he had already seen her. Her curves were in all the right places. Her nipples pressed against the wet, transparent fabric, hard and dark. Her flat stomach led to dainty panties that stuck to her like glue.

  “John! It’s so good to see you,” Brody said. They shook hands and clapped one another on the shoulder.

  The girl turned her back and took a moment to pluck her shirt from her body. Pulling her shorts up and fastening them, she turned to face the men.